Primal Scream Screamadelica

Primal Scream Screamadelica

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There's no overestimating the importance of Screamadelica, the record that brought acid house, techno, and rave culture crashing into the British mainstream -- an impact that rivaled that of Nirvana's Nevermind, the other 1991 release that changed rock. Prior to Screamadelica, Primal Scream were Stonesy classic rock revivalists with a penchant for Detroit rock. They retained those fascinations on Screamadelica -- one listen to the Jimmy Miller-produced, Stephen Stills-rip "Movin' on Up" proves that -- but they burst everything wide open here, turning rock inside out by marrying it to a gleeful rainbow of modern dance textures. This is such a brilliant, gutsy innovative record, so unlike anything the Scream did before, that it's little wonder that there's been much debate behind who is actually responsible for its grooves, especially since Andrew Weatherall is credited with production with eight of the tracks, and it's clearly in line with his work. Even if Primal Scream took credit for Weatherall's endeavors, that doesn't erase the fact that they shepherded this album, providing the ideas and impetus for this dubtastic, elastic, psychedelic exercise in deep house and neo-psychedelic. Like any dance music, this is tied to its era to a certain extent, but it transcends it due to its fierce imagination and how it doubles back on rock history, making the past present and vice versa. It was such a monumental step forward that Primal Scream stumbled before regaining their footing, but by that point, the innovations of Screamadelica had been absorbed by everyone from the underground to mainstream. There's little chance that this record will be as revolutionary to first-time listeners, but after its initial spin, the genius in its construction will become apparent -- and it's that attention to detail that makes Screamadelica an album that transcends its time and influence.

Primal Scream Exterminator (XTRMNTR) Japan

Primal Scream Exterminator (XTRMNTR) Japan

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Whenever indie music seems lost in its own self-righteous, unchallenging, inoffensive fundament, Primal Scream rides in to try and save it all. So just as Screamadelica tried to encapsulate the importance of ecstasy culture, or Vanishing Point tried to exorcise their own insanity, here XTRMNTR is a nasty, fierce realization of an entire world that has also lost the plot. The album starts with a gloriously vindictive sample of a kid commanding "Kill All Hippies," and this roughly states the album's modus operandi. There are songs shouting with furious, feedback-splayed anger ("Blood Money," "Exterminator"), songs of club-based revolt (both house-influenced versions of "Swastika Eyes"), and songs of utterly manic desperation ("Accelerator"). The album only lurches when lead singer Bobby Gillespie's weedy vocals can't keep up with the black noise of the music. "Insect Royalty" meanders and mumbles with a blank approach. "Pills" is a half-realized hip-hop song, with Gillespie diminishing its power on every verse (it only saves itself when it caps the song off with the album's central theme: "Sick f*ck f*ck sick f*ck f*ck sick f*ck"). Thankfully, Scream's highs, such as the gentleness of "Keep Your Dreams" (sounding like the third sibling to 1991's "I'm Coming Down" or 1997's "Star"), as well as the inversely monstrous and apocalyptic "MBV Arkestra (If They Move, Kill 'Em)," shower down with purely visceral poise. The album is not the flawless statement against complacency the band seemed to strive for, but it succeeds at tearing heads off, shooting fascists, and quickly asking questions later with unbelievable fury. For these reasons alone, it easily serves as one of the band's highest marks. These aren't the aggro-simpleton maneuvers of bands like Rage Against the Machine or Korn; the implosive production and sheer political belief prove that ingenuity must come hand in hand with "statement" if an idea is to come across effectively. XTRMNTR is simply a protest -- sonically as well as lyrically -- and maybe this would be a fine time to once again rally behind something worthwhile

Primal Scream ‎Dirty Hits

Primal Scream Dirty Hits CD1/CD2

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Possibly the greatest rock ‘n’roll outfit to walk the Earth, Primal Scream have doneit all. They went there, they did it, they bought (and no doubt spent several months in it too) theT-shirt. A group made up of magnificent parts, withorigins in the finest indie known to man such as The Jesus & Mary Chain, The Stone Roses, Felt and My Bloody Valentine. They are the dirty disco half dozen, the boogie outlaws, the drug-munching cosmic pop voyagers, rounded up like the last gang in town. Truly, there is no finer band. Essentially the vision of oneman, Bobby Gillespie, here was an individualreligiously enthralled to the power and joy of music.Very often seen with a large sportsbag of tunes, ithas been Gillespie’s total belief in the power ofmusic. Alarmingly, Dirty Hits is the first ever Primal Scream compilation. With 18 tracks taken from Screamadelica onwards, it’s not the full story. An exhaustive box set, though, would be bloody essentiallistening. Sadly there’s nary a sign of the first two albums or even the C86 in excelsis of Velocity Girl instead this collection kicks off where it all started to get interesting. Hearing Loaded now, it seemslike it has always been there. Barely a yoof-relatedproduct has gone un-soundtracked by it. It’s a birrovaanthem, built around an Andrew Weatherall remix of atrack from 1989’s eponymous second album. The era was Madchester, when every indie Herbert imaginables wapped his cardigan for a dance element and had their brief spell in the low 30s of the charts. It gave the Screamtheir first proper hit and the most mental Top Of The Pops moment ever, with Bobby failing miserably toremember the only eight words he sings on it. Torealise how amazing Screamadelica was in 1991, andstill is now, look no further than Higher Than The Sun – a thing of great beauty – and the mobile phone-tastic Movin’ On Up. When the Scream came back in 1994 with Give Out But Don’t Give Up, and their partyrockin’, er, Rocks, they found themselves usurped by label mates Oasis. Suddenly the Scream looked like old, and very bad news with rumours of heavydrugs and the general unpleasantness of touring with Depeche Mode. Thankfully, they got their shit together and in 1997 released the near perfect Vanishing Point. Quietly, in tunes such as Kowalski and Burning Wheel, the Scream were regaining their magnificence. By 2000, and it was full-on next level. Xtrmntr is this century’s finest album – a blistering, blinding shaft of punk anger, funk chaosand wobbly sloganeering. The four tracks from it here – Accelerator, Kill All Hippies, Swastika Eyes and the sublime Shoot Speed Kill Light – are the best things any other band has ever done ever. Fact. The sonic terrorism continued onto Evil Heat, yet not quite as convincingly.Miss Lucifer is a fine Teutonic klash-up, and Deep Hit Of The Morning Sun Dirty Hits ends with a remix of the Kate Moss-assisted, Lee Hazelwood cover, Some Velvet Morning, and the pleasant Autobahn 66. Dirty Hits, then. If you want a high class taster of what Primal Scream are about,then you’re in the right place. If you’re then compelled to buy the rest of their canon, then all the better. For those about to shake, boogie, kraut out,starjump badly and yes even rock, then the Screamsalutes you. Fantastic. 

Primal Scream Vanishing Point Japan Expanded Edition As Requested By FILIP

Robert 'Throb' Young 1965-2014 R.I.P.

Primal Scream Vanishing Point

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Primal Scream in 1997 were in a pretty bad position: their excursion into Rolling Stonesy revivalism Give Out But Don't Give Up had been trashed critically, and their position as innovators being threatened. They responded by recruiting the Stone Roses bassist, Gary "Mani" Mounfield, and recruiting Brendan Lynch and their former producer Andrew Weatherall to oversee their return to warped electronic-rock territory. In the process they created another great album.

The album overall The simplest way to describe this album would be Screamadelica thrown through a noir filter. All the previous colour and character has been replaced with a dark, menacing atmosphere and tension. The production for the album is appropriately grimy and the spontaneous nature of the recordings (the album having been recorded in two months with heavy live improvisation) adds to the paranoia.

The songs:  Burning Wheel opens the album with heavily echoed drum machines and a sampled sitar, which give way to a more improvised ambient composition, anchored by a trip-hop beat and punctuated by random layering of sounds. Bobby Gillespie's lyrics, often the band's Achilles' heel, are used well in this context, as a collection of random images that seem to describe a bad trip. The sprawling, rambling arrangement allows the band time to take all sorts of unpredictable twists, yet somehow the song never feels self-indulgent. And as an opening salvo, it's better than "Movin' On Up" or "Jailbird".

The instrumental follow-up Get Duffy is an early highlight, thanks to its seedy main piano riff and its Portishead-imitation groove, constructed from old drum machines, horns, and an eagerly abused filtered echo pedals. At the middle, it takes a darker turn, with dissonant notes and wah guitar. Recommended.

Kowalski is a song about one of the characters from the film the album was named after. It opens with sampled film dialogue, reversed beats and lo-fi synths, turning into a nervous, tense breakbeat-fest. Again, the lyrics work rather well thanks to their minimalism (he just tends to repeat "Like Kowalski in Vanishing Point" or something to that effect), which doesn't detract from the overall mood (although no doubt the song would've worked better as an instrumental). The song too boasts a rambling, improvisatory arrangement, and plenty of industrial, heavy beats. Another highlight.

Star is the first clunker on the album, a dubby, bass-heavy attempt to update Screamadelica's "Shine like Stars". While Augustus Pablo's melodica is a nice touch (reminding one of Gorillaz) and the introduction with just bass and drum machine is sample-friendly, the rest wobbles on its feet. The optimistic, shiny melodies clash badly with the dirty sound, and Gillespie's lyrics are laughable, a platitude-filled tribute to revolutionaries. It begins by asking, "Are you solid as a rock/Have you a strong foundation/Or can your soul be bought", says there's "no greater anarchist" than "the queen of England", and has a limp "Every brother is a star/Every sister is a star" chorus.

If They Move, Kill 'Em rectifies the quality control issue by disposing with vocals and ratcheting up the menace. The introductory high-pitched synth line is more effective than any time Dr. Dre used the same gimmick, the bass is deep as a fountain, and the trip-hop beats are suitably heavy. Duncan Mackay and Jim Hunt return from "Get Duffy" to provide more cheap spy-movie horns. Marco Nelson's basslines are hypnotic, and the structure is chaotic. All of this adds up to another highlight.

Out of the Void is a slow dirge that takes 60s psychedelic influences and smashes them against trip-hop and dub. This time the lyrics are a direct lament from a man stuck in a vicious cycle, and they mesh well with the slow dirge that swirls around Bobby. Martin Duffy seizes the opportunity to do some great Leslie organ solos, and Young's quick guitar licks betray a distinct Stones influence.

Stuka opens with yet more heavily echoed, distorted drums, and another good dub-influenced bassline (again from Marco Nelson, as somehow Mani tends to be underused on the album). A high-tech beat is then layered underneath, the song nicely summoning the atmosphere of a deserted industrial factory at night.

But then the vocals come in, and again derail an otherwise fine mood-piece (conforming to the pattern already set). This time they're heavily processed and vocoded, and more incoherent, thanks to some rambling about how "Jesus" and "a demon" are "in my head like a stinger" and "move from tree to tree". Luckily the damage is not severe, as they disappear for most of the midsection. The song ends abruptly with an echoed flute sample.

Medication is another expected Stones imitation, but this time it boasts a good guitar riff, a pounding backbeat, and assistance from Glen Matlock on bass. Sure, everyone knows by now, Bobby's a bad writer. But this time the lyrics are at least coherent, simplified, and meet a minimal level of quality. Oh, and Robert Young drops in just in time to deliver a blistering solo.

Motörhead is a cover of a song by Hawkwind. Primal Scream take what was presumably a heavy metal original, and apply the Screamadelica twist: stiff dance beat plus distorted guitars. The result is a ragged, chaotic song approaching industrial rock. There are some sore spots: they abuse the white noise generator too much in some parts, and the ending is too sudden and loud. Don't listen to it at maximum volume.

Trainspotting was the Primals' contribution to the eponymous film's soundtrack. The song is obviously influenced by dub and ambient in its monotone construction and emphasis of repetition for hypnotic effect. Again, the song is anchored by a trip-hop beat, and Mani finally gets to cleanly deliver a great bassline. At the 2-minute point a guitar riff reminiscent of Dr. Dre's song "Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat" is introduced, and repeated throughout. The rest of the band improvise on this theme, many samples and sounds are added, and the song ends before it can turn into an aimless jam.

Trainspotting would've been a great way to end the album, but we get Long Life instead, which suffers from "Star" syndrome at first, attempting to marry clichéd, "positive" lyrics (sample: "Good to be alive/alive/alive/alive") with menacing, acid-trip grooves. Luckily Bobby tunes out quickly, and we're left with the swirling synths, echoed guitars and mechanic drumming. An okay ending for a good album.

Conclusion Vanishing Point was a "comeback" for Primal Scream, and it set their stage for their last great album so far, XTRMNTR. These two albums have proved once and for all that Primal Scream's best material results from their uncanny ability to synthesise electronic music and rock into an inventive, exciting blend.